Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ethiopia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Music Machine to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Radiopuhelimet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nils Olav,
Marc Almond,
Monks,
Drexciya,
Judy Mowatt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Sonics,
One Last Wish,
The Fire Engines,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barclay James Harvest,
Livin' Joy,
Isaac Hayes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Desert Stars,
The Mummies,
The Busters,
Infiniti,
Maurizio,
the Swans,
New York Dolls,
The Durutti Column,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Echospace,
Kerrie Biddell,
Radio Birdman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Country Teasers,
Graham Central Station,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Faust,
Neu!,
Harmonia,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Zeros,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Q65,
Sister Nancy,
Saccharine Trust,
Public Enemy,
Barry Ungar,
Wire,
Lebanon Hanover,
Robert Wyatt,
Idris Muhammad,
Surgeon,
Glenn Branca,
Babytalk,
Television,
Outsiders,
Altered Images,
Accadde A,
June Days,
The Mojo Men,
Henry Cow,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.